Kiss Me While I'm Sleeping
by Stranger H
Summary: Draco has been having nightmares. Lucius is doing everything he can to pacify his son, but nothing is working. Then one night, he finds that Draco is soothed by a kiss... More coming soon.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note: This is something new I created while I was trying to finish up A Family Endeavor. That story will be finished soon, I promise, but I'm having a slight case of "I don't want it to end so I'm procrastinating." So, in the meantime, here is the beginnings of a new fic I created. The characters are not mine, they belong to the lovely J.K. Rowling, but the situation and what not is all me. And, as a warning, this will contain incest and slash, so if that's not your ship, don't read it._**

**Chapter One- A Father's Care**

His body shuddered and twisted in the bed sheets, his face contorted in a gross display of terror and helplessness.

"Draco," Lucius called to his distressed son.

Draco let out an animilian groan, thrashing about as though fighting back an invisible assailant.

"Draco," Lucius said again, standing over his son. He reached out to take hold of Draco's waving limbs as he feared Draco would mar himself as before. When his hand finally caught Draco's wrist, his son let out an ear- splitting scream.

Lucius immediately drew back, his heart pounding and eardrums throbbing.

"Can't you quiet him?" Narcissa hissed from the doorway.

"I'm trying," Lucius snapped back.

* * *

"You had another nightmare," Lucius stated the next morning when his son sat down for breakfast.

Draco didn't immediately reply. He stared down at his food and picked up a fork, plunging it into his egg. "I'm sorry father," Draco muttered quietly

"Apologize to you mother, not to me," Lucius replied dryly. Narcissa was the one most bothered by his son's nightly terrors. She was always displeased with Draco. Lucius never understood it. Mothers were supposed to be gentle toward their children, but when Draco was born, Cissa seemed utterly disgusted by him. Rejection wasn't uncommon in the relations of mothers and newbornes, but Narcissa never grew out of it. In fact, the older Draco grew, the more distant she became.

Lucius had tried in the beginning to nurture his son, as his own mother would not, but his efforts were in vain. There was nothing that could replace that broken bond.

And of course, Lucius could hardly be openly affectionate to his son. Cissa condemned him the first time Lucius ran to Draco's side when the nightmares began. "You'll make him soft," she accused, gazing at Lucius with the very same look of disgust. There was no pleasing that woman, so Lucius stopped trying. He had learned on their wedding night what she truly thought of him.

It made his stomach turn at the thought of it; all those months he had spent trying to win her over were a waste. Cissa wasn't capable of loving another. She married him only for access to the Malfoy fortune. Once he learned that, he did his best to lock her out of his accounts. The last thing he needed was his family inheritance whittled away by a crude, disgruntled woman.

"I'm sorry mother," Draco said to Narcissa.

She only glared at him until his eyes and concentration returned to his food.

Lucius tried hard to bite back the urge to comfort Draco in front of her. He was hard- pressed to enjoy another one of her screeching speeches.

* * *

He stood in the doorway, hidden in shadow, watching him. Draco was quieter tonight, but Lucius knew not to take anything for granted. It was hardly midnight. There were still more hours before dawn and Draco's dreams could turn ugly at any second.

He lingered for another moment before turning and stepping back out into the hallway. The floorboards creaked softly under his weight as he made his way to the library. There was no point in returning to his bed. He had no desire to be pushed away yet again by his stiff wife. He's do better staying in the library armchairs. At least they were meant to be cold.

He had just made it to the library entrance when he heard it. The first scream of the night. "Draco," he whispered, rushing down the hallway.

Draco was tangled with his arms and neck twisted in the bed sheets. It looked as though he was trying to strangle himself.

"Draco!" he said aloud, rushing forward to help his son. Draco kicked and thrashed about in the bed, entangling himself even more in the merciless sheets. Draco cried out as Lucius grabbed him by the wrists and held him still. "Stop it," he demanded, trying his best not to crush his son with his weight as he attempted to keep Draco from moving. "You'll kill yourself," he said.

Lucius didn't know why he spoke to his son when he was having his nightly terrors. He knew Draco couldn't hear him. It was a habit, he supposed. Awake or asleep, Lucius cared for his son. It didn't matter if he listened or not. Lucius only wanted his son to know that he wasn't unloved. "Calm down... That's it... Sshh," Lucius whispered, gathering his son's not limp body into his arms. "It'll pass." Draco had seemed to have given up his fight with Lucius and was now breathing a little softer, though is expression was still one of intense struggle and frustration.

The moment Lucius loosened his grip, Draco began to tense and started thrashing about once more, like a wild animal caught in a hinter's snares. "Hush now," Lucius said softly, stroking the clammy forehead of his son, lightly kissing it. It happened to easily, Lucius had to pause. The very second Lucius's lips had brushed the skin of Draco's forehead, his son went utterly quiet. His breathing was timed and normal for a person in a deep slumber. His face was smooth, free of all anguish.

"What on earth?" he said to himself. He couldn't believe it. A single kiss had soothed his son.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two- A Father's Remedy**

"I heard him quiet last night," Cissa said the next morning. "What did you do?"

Lucius took a sip of his glass of water. He was thinking up a story, so he took his time, seemingly to revel in the tastelessness of the water.

"Well?" Narcissa demanded in her usual irritated voice.

"I held him," Lucius answered thoughtfully after a few more moments of contemplation. Lucius was never one for lying, at least, not to his family.

Narcissa frowned. "You know what's going to happen now-"

"Yes I know, I'll turn him soft. You've been very clear on that point Cissa."

"Don't call me that," Narcissa hissed. "You know I don't like it."

"Is there anything you _do_ like?" Lucius spat, getting up from the table. He exited before she could answer.

* * *

Lucius knocked on his son's door, gently pulling it open as he did so. "Draco?" he called.

"Yes father?" Draco answered weakly. He was just getting up from his bed, still dressed in frumpled pajamas. His hair was mussed and his eyes puffy with sleep.

"Did you sleep well?" Lucius asked, trying not to stare too hard at his son.

Draco paused a moment, remembering. "I think so," he said finally. "Did I?"

"You had one moment of distress," Lucius said.

Draco's eyes widened. "Did I wake...?"

"No. No, she slept through it I believe." Lucius sighed slightly, saddened by the fact that his son was so worried about his impression on Narcissa. The poor boy had no chance of ever pleasing her. He wondered if Draco knew...

* * *

The pendulum swung back and forth, clicking methodically. Lucius followed it with his eyes until he felt he was going cross- eyed. The silence was uneasy. He knew Draco would upset soon. He wished it would come sooner; all the better to get the battle over with. He massaged his temple with his hand, closing his eyes. A kiss had soothed him the night before. But had that really been it? Was a kiss really the answer? Why? And is it only his kiss?

He frowned. This was truly perplexing. He had never heard of a kissing remedy to night terrors. It seemed hardly likely that such a thing would solve them. Usually touch made them worse. That much was proven when Lucius tried to take hold of Draco to prevent him from harming himself.

He'd never forget that first night when Draco had scratched himself so that he was bleeding all over. The sight was horrific. Lucius shuddered. It was almost like watching an animal chew its own leg off when it's trapped in a butcher's grasp. Of course Cissa screamed at the sight of her son in such a state. If only it were because he had caused himself harm that she was screaming. But he knew the real reason. She was appalled at the idea that he would be seen in public that way. That was all the worried her. Their image.

Lucius smiled bitterly. How could he have married such a frigid woman? And how he longed for her touch still. Despite her hatred of him, he couldn't help but long for the moments when she allowed herself to be held by him. She had such warm skin... Lucius's body received a jolt as his thoughts were interrupted by the expected shriek from Draco's bedroom. He ran to his son, his heart thudding hard against his chest.

"Draco," he called, watching his son writhe in what seemed to be the worst of all agony. He tried to reach out to him, but Draco flailed and hit his hands away from him.

As he watched his son fighting back his unseen tormenters, Lucius wondered if it really had been the kiss. There was only one way... He waiting until he saw his chance, then he plunged forward into his son's bed and took hold of his head with both hands and met his boy's lips with his own.

Draco immediately collapsed, resuming the undisturbed sleep of his earlier years.

Lucius released his son and stood back, his breathing quick and panicked. _So it is a kiss_.

* * *

Draco was undisturbed for the rest of the night. Lucius paced the library for the remaining few hours before dawn, pondering this new discovery. Every so often, he would pause and put his hands to his lips. He could still feel the warmth of his son's mouth against his own. Quickly, he would bring his hand down and resume his rhythmic walking. He shouldn't be dwelling on such a thing. A kiss is a kiss. Nothing more. It doesn't mean anything. But... Why did he enjoy it so? Why did his heart leap so triumphantly when he felt his son fall motionless in his arms when he engaged him in the short liplock?

Because it's the feeling he always wanted. Lucius fell back into his chair and buried his face in his palms. He should not feel this way. Not for his son, his own flesh and blood. Oh, but it was such a tender feeling. So warm.

But no. This was wrong. This was rape.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three- A Father's Plight**

The day went by and Draco said nothing of the advent of the night before. Lucius could only assume he had no realization of what went on. He never even remembered having nightmares. Draco was only reminded of them if Narcissa said anything the next morning, which, she usually did. Lucius looked down on forcing his son to feel ashamed of dreams he had no control over.

"If they are ever going to stop, he needs to be aware of them," Narcissa said simply.

"He can't control his dreams."

"Oh, I think he can," Narcissa scoffed. "He has never had any respect for this family's image. He's too old to be having this kind of trouble."

Lucius said nothing in return. He was not in the mood for arguing. He hadn't the stomach for it as his wife did.

Night came and Lucius spent another evening waiting for the alarm to sound in the library. The smell of the old musty books was comforting, even if he hadn't read but one or two of the entire collection. It was that way with most of his possessions. The majority of the house he hadn't touched. The things that decked his hallways and bedrooms were only antiques from his family's past, passed down from father to son for generations. Why, the grandfather clock that still swung its heavy pendulum was probably worth one hundred thousand galleons.

Lucius watched the golden object swing back and forth, sending him into a soft trance, which he was quickly thrown out of. Another of Draco's screams rang through the halls. He got up from the chair and ran to his son's room, stopping at the door to catch his breath.

He knew if he didn't get to him soon, Narcissa would wake up and there would be hell to pay. But then again, even when he did get there in time, she always knew of the nightmares. She had a talent for pointing out mistakes, no matter how trivial.

"Draco..." he whispered, tip toeing into the room. Once he reached the foot of the bed, he paused and gazed at his struggling son. There was a glint of moonlight coming from the cracks in the blinds, making Draco's hair look neon white against the blue backdrop of the darkness.

"Draco," he repeated, edging over him, reaching out a careful hand. He caught Draco's flailing arm and before his son could make a sound of protest, he met his lips with his own. Draco's body immediately went limp, but he stayed latched to Lucius's lips, as willingly giving back to the kiss as he was receiving.

Lucius tried to pull away, but Draco held on, now reaching around his father's neck and pulling him down closer to him. Lucius tried to reason with himself, to point out that this was wrong, but he couldn't release himself from this beautiful kiss. Slowly, Draco's lips parted, revealing an eager tongue. It quickly slithered its way into Lucius's mouth. Lucius felt he was leaving himself. His body rolled and trembled with the pleasurable sensations that made ripples up and down his spine.

The feeling of this, with this son, was excitable. He was melting in his own flesh and blood's arms. He felt himself kneeling down onto the bed, only his arms supporting him as he lay over his son.

* * *

**"**Father...?" Draco nudged Lucius awake.

"What is it?" Lucius mumbled, his throat dry from the chilling air of the library.

"Are you all right?"

Lucius opened his eyes and blinked slowly as his son came into focus. He couldn't for the life of him, remember returning to the library.

"You're in the library father," Draco corrected. "Are you all right?" he repeated after a moment of quiet.

"I'm fine," Lucius answered quickly. Suddenly realizing it was daylight, Lucius jumped in his chair. "What time is it?"

"It's five o'clock in the evening... You've been here all day."

"I have?" Lucius frowned. The moment he stood, he new his son was right. Every muscle in his body was stiff and his bones seemed to creak as he stretched. He caught his reflection in the glass casing on the grandfather clock, which began to chime out. His hair was mussed and bent in the back. He had bags under his eyes and an imprint of the couch arm on his face. "Go wash up for dinner," he ordered. Though Draco had seen Lucius in worse states, he hated being disheveled in any way. He was one for first impressions.

Draco didn't reply, but skipped off and out of the library, leaving Lucius to his foggy thoughts. Why had he slept so late? Perhaps his emotional turmoil had taken its toll after all. But it didn't feel like it. His mind was clear now. The guilt was gone. He could look at his son in the eyes and not feel ashamed.

"So you're awake," said the hissing voice of Narcissa. Lucius turned around to see her just appearing in the doorway, arms folded tight against her chest. "It's about time."

"What do you want?"

Narcissa blanched. "Is that any way to speak to your wife?"

"I'm only returning the tone," Lucius snapped back.

Her eyes narrowed. He could almost see the retort flickering behind those steely eyes, but she didn't voice it. Instead she smiled. Lucius had the urge to back away. He never liked it when she smiled; she always looked murderous when she did so. "Come to dinner," she said.

"I'll be there," Lucius said slowly.

Narcissa chuckled to herself. "Well, do try and hurry." She turned to walk out, then paused. "And if you see Draco, be sure to give him a good _kiss_ for me."

Lucius's eyes widened. He opened his mouth but no sound could escape his vocal chords. They were in as much shock as he was. Narcissa smirked as her point was made. She snickered and strode away, seemingly pleased with herself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four- A Father's Jealousy**

Lucius felt his heart stop. How could she know? His face burned as an overwhelming sense of shame crept over him. She knew. Though he longed to believe she was only being her usual spiteful self, he felt in the pit of his stomach that she knew the truth.

But had she seen? Had she been there all along? Why had he not noticed? How could he not have felt her presence?

Lucius collapsed into his armchair, his head reeling with so many questions. This was too much to take at once.

"You're pathetic," Narcissa snapped. She had reentered in her formal dress robes, her face concealed by layers of makeup. "It's disgraceful that you are so useless."

Lucius glanced at the clock. An hour had gone by. Funny, it didn't feel like that long. He stared at the floor, like a boy being scolded, searching for anything to look at besides _her_.

He heard her heels click across the wooden surface, loud then soft, as she charged to him. She stopped right in front of him. He could see a slight scuff on her right shoe. He wondered if she was aware of it. She was always preening to be perfect. "Stop acting like a woman," she sneered. He could tell by the tone of her voice that she had her eyes narrowed on him. "You have a duty to me and to this house tonight. You will not embarrass me this time. Now get dressed. I expect you downstairs in ten minutes." She turned on the last word and stormed out.

Lucius sighed. He had forgotten about the banquet. It wasn't surprising, however. She had stunned every remaining thought from his head.

It was tradition at the Malfoy Manor, to hold a summer banquet every year. These occasions were nothing special to Lucius anymore. They lost their charm when Cissa began flirting with the younger male guests. And it wasn't merely the flirting that put him off. He recalled last year's banquet; Narcissa had purposely set up an affair for him to walk into. That was one of the reasons he had retreated to the library in the first place. He had a hard time sleeping in the same bed Cissa had had another man in. But what could he expect? She had never welcomed him into her arms since the night Draco was conceived.

He slipped off his crumpled robes and tossed them to the side. He took out a freshly pressed set of black and grey robes and slid into them. The feeling of fresh cloth on his skin was comforting. After that night, when he caught his wife with someone else, he moved a considerable about of his personal items into a storage closet in the library.

Crossing the hallway into the guest bath, Lucius sighed. This night was going to be a long one, especially if Cissa took to her knack of glaring at him the entire time. And now she had reason. She knew what he had done with his son and the shameful feelings that stirred inside of him when he held that frail body.

"What has happened to you?" he asked the mirror. Surprisingly, the mirror did not respond. He figured it wouldn't. The only time it spoke to him was when he was begging a complement.

He took out his powder container and dusted his face and hair with it, hoping to disguise his tired exterior. It wasn't working very well. The lines in his face began to show a little more with each passing day. He missed his youthful skin. He would have given anything to have Draco's complexion again- and his body. There were moments when he envied his son. To be so young and so in love with life as he was… Lucius could only imagine the feeling now that he was in this state of complete hell.

He leaned in closer to the mirror and ran his fingers across the shape of his eye. The skin there was smooth, just under his eye, but when he reached the fold at the corner, he was disgusted. No wonder Cissa took to older men. He wouldn't want to make love to him either.

A pang in his stomach unsettled him. Why should his son want him either? After all, he was only kissing him in his sleep. He could be dreaming of anything.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Author's Note: In the end of chapter 4, the sentence, "No wonder Cissa took to older men." It should be that she takes to younger men. Not older._**

**Chapter Five- A Father's Lust**

Lucius combed through his long mane once more before setting his silver handled brush down on the sink. This was as good as it would get. Unlike Cissa, he didn't have the luxury of hiding behind makeup.

"Father," Draco's voice called.

"What is it?" Lucius sighed. He opened the bathroom door a crack and let his son peer through.

"Mother wants us down..." Draco's eyes stared. Lucius felt his heart pound his ribcage. What was his son thinking? What kind of man did he see before him?

"Of course she does," Lucius replied with a grim smile. He took one last look at himself in the mirror and pushed the door open wide. "Shall we?" he said, offering Draco his elbow. They linked arms and headed down the sweeping stairs to the murmur of expensive clothing and tinkle of wine glasses. The mingling had started early.

At the bottom step, Lucius and Draco broke apart, Draco heading for the cluster of other youths, Lucius aiming for the refreshment table. Planting himself at its foot, Lucius gathered a plate of tasteless biscuits and cakes, ignoring the feeling of eyes on him. Who knew what Narcissa told them tonight? He's heard her rumours before. One year, Lucius was beating her. The next, he was threatening poor Draco. If only they knew the truth, he thought, that she is the one doing the threatening.

"You'll get even fatter if you keep that up," came the all too familiar hiss in his ear.

He set his plate down on the table corner steadily as he could with his muscles tensed all over. "Why do you care? It's not like you want this body," he retorted quietly back.

"I will not be seen with an obese glutton, Lucius," Narcissa said through clenched teeth.

"I suppose I won't leave the house again then, will I?" Lucius whispered. A pause on Cissa's behalf made him wonder if she had heard that last remark. She glared at him and snatched away his biscuit plate and Lucius watched bitterly as his sustenance snaked its way through the crowd to the trash bin.

* * *

Not an hour into the banquet, Lucius took his leave, claiming a migraine and an early morning ahead of him. "Family business," he had called it. The truth was, he couldn't stand to be smothered around Narcissa's perfumed poufs much longer.

He splashed his face with cold water, watching the powder run in streaks down his skin. He dabbed his face with a hand towel and locked the guest bathroom door. He cleared his throat, reminding himself of the ever-present feeling of mucus lining his vocal chords. He supposed it came from the lack of use of his voice. He and Narcissa rarely conversed on a regular level. It was either an argument, in which Lucius's voice rose and often cracked, or snide comments passed to each other through rough whispers and tight jaws. Never did he use a normal tone around her. Even with his friends, his days of philosophizing and chattering on about spells and women were long over. Cissa took even them away from him.

He disrobed and stared at himself in the long mirror on the opposite wall. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself old man," he said aloud. Aside from the slight aging of his eyes and mouth, Lucius was maintained. His body, though much larger in build than in his youth, remained toned and his muscles tight. Vanity was one of his daily sins. If he weren't to look good for his wife, he must look decent for himself. After all, he had only himself to please.

Lucius felt the hair on his arms and legs prickle and the chill of the bathroom caught up to him. The sensation sent delightful chills across his skin. He turned the brass knobs on the bathtub and let it fill with steaming water. He added lightly parfumed soap to bubble the water. Once the tide rose near to the brim of the bathtub, he turned the pressure off and climbed into the tub, reclining lengthwise so that his feet were to the faucet and his back to the wall.

Small scented bubbles swirled up his muscular thighs, tickling the sensitive skin facing his member. He shivered, but not deplorably so. No, this sensation Lucius came to like. It wasn't often that his body enjoyed itself.

He reclined further, laying his head back against the wrapped up towel that served as a headrest. The water slowly sloshed back and forth. He closed his eyes and inhaled the soft musk scented steam. He inhaled and held his breath, lowering his head under the water. His scalp crawled as the water dampened the ends to the roots. Once he was thoroughly soaked, he resurfaced and caught his breath. He wiped the water out of his eyes and retook his place on the headrest.

Watching the steam rise, he let his mind wander. That was a mistake. The first thing to his mind was Draco, asleep, and their last impassioned kiss. His son was so sweet, so pure of all things sexual, or so he assumed. He imagined that was how a virgin felt. Narcissa's virtue was long lost before they ever met. Lucius never had the pleasure of being a first. As his mind dwelled on the subject, he caught himself picturing Draco beneath him, all a tremble, with those pale eyes glittering up at him.

Then, Lucius felt his manhood stir to life. Instantly, he felt shame and his face burned red. How could he be aroused by his own flesh? He sat straight up, his brows furrowed. Think of something else- anything else. But his member refused all sense. No matter how hard he tried to think of something else, his mind went back to that resplendent image of his son and him in a single bed, alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six- A Father's Discovery**

Lucius slid under the soapy bathwater again, opening his eyes to let the bubbles invade his moist pupils. He squeezed his eyelids shut as they stung and tears blended into the water. He resurfaced, palms to his face. No luck. Burning the image of his naked son from his mind wasn't going to work.

"What am I going to do?" he said to himself, rubbing the water from his face. But the more he worried over his thoughts, the more vivid they became. Soon, he felt himself near to tears. His arousal had grown to agony. He shouldn't be feeling this way. Why was he feeling this way? What had he done to deserve these urges?

Lucius leaned his head back against the rolled towel. There was only one thing he could do. He let his hands fall to his thighs. His legs tingled between the bubbles that crawled up his flesh and the warmth of his hands versus the water. He closed his eyes, preferring not to witness what his limbs were up to. His hand slowly found its way to his member, which remained stiff, erect, and persistent. He had just wrapped his fingers around it when suddenly…

_Bang, bang_, went the door. "Lucius!" Cissa's voice pierced through the door like nothing.

"What is it?" Lucius fired back, irritated that he was being disturbed in his bath. But he was grateful all the same. Her voice instantly calmed his erection. He couldn't have asked for a better distraction.

"Come out of there," she shouted. "You will explain to me why you made a fool of me tonight."

Lucius chuckled to himself and rose from the bath water, making an extra effort to slosh it around, to drown out his wife's mumbled insults. It was always the same. Even though it seemed like she detested his presence at her parties, when he left, she was furious. And always, it was the same argument. "What will they think of me?" she would say. "You've embarrassed both myself and that boy. How could you?" _Yes,_ Lucius thought, _that boy. That boy whom you hate just as much as the father._ He wrapped a towel around his waste after patting his chest dry and unlocked the door, opening it a crack. "Could we do this later?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Narcissa frowned, her eyes gleaming with spite. "What makes you think you have a right to demand such a thing?"

Lucius sighed and said, "Just a moment then." He closed the door.

Upon the click of the knob, Narcissa shouted, "Don't you shut me out of there!"

"Would you rather I come out to you as I am now?" Lucius retorted, knowing full well what she thought of his body.

Silence; just as he thought.

* * *

Lucius rolled over in the bed, his arm spreading to his side, searching for a figure that should have been beside him. Instead, he was met with the cold crispness of the bed sheets. He had taken a risk, he knew, sleeping in his wife's bed that night. But, after their confrontation, how could he let her have her way? He was never one for raising his voice to Narcissa, but he would still have his revenges, no matter how small they seemed.

He knew she slept elsewhere that night. Most likely, she inhabited one of the guest rooms on the other side of the manor. And, she was probably residing with one of the younger men she met at the party. Lucius frowned. How many of them were left for her to sleep with anyway? It seemed, to him, that she had been through them all already.

He sat up in the bed and pushed the sheets away from him. The cold air of the morning made his hair stand on end and his skin to goose bump. He let his feet touch the bare wood floor and stood, now fully awake. "Wait…" he said aloud. This wasn't morning. There were no birds singing to the sun. And the light was reflecting through the wrong window. "What time is it?" he said to himself, growing suddenly worried.

He searched the room for the miniature grandfather clock that always sat on the marble top table in the corner. It wasn't there. Narcissa must have gotten rid of it the same time he left the bedroom in her custody.

Heart rate quickening, Lucius grabbed for his black lounge coat and slippers, tearing out of the bedroom door. "Draco? Narcissa?" he called. Something wasn't right. He shouldn't have been allowed to sleep to the afternoon. "Draco?" he called again. He passed a clock in the hallway and glanced at it. It was four o'clock in the afternoon.

No, this definitely wasn't right. Soon, Lucius was running through the hallway, turning every corner, calling out for his wife and child. No answer.

He ran all the way to the opposite side of the manor before he found any sign of life. And, as he peered through the cracked door, he wished that he hadn't. There, tangled in each other, was his wife and Draco, unclothed, in one of the guest bedrooms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven- A Father's Fury Pt. 1**

Lucius choked and pulled away from the door. His heart nearly stopped at the sight of his wife and child. He tried to swallow down the lump that had taken residence in his throat, but to no avail. He felt as though his stomach had dropped to his knees. How could he have been betrayed like this? He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his racing thoughts.

No, he wasn't betrayed. He didn't have a relationship with either of the pair to have been jeopardized.

At the creak of the door hinges, Lucius pressed himself against the wall. Narcissa slid out of the room, a robe around her now, and closed the door. At seeing her distraught husband, she laughed. "I couldn't let you have all the fun, now could I?" she said, her voice dripping with malice.

"What have you done?" Lucius asked, appalled at what he was hearing.

Narcissa continued to grin at him, as though feeding on the torment Lucius was feeling. "You're one to talk, Lucius," she spat.

"No," Lucius shook his head. "I never would have… What you've done…" He could barely speak the words that were swirling in his head. How could she do this to him? What had she done? Why?

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "What I have done?" she queried. "What do you think I did?"

Lucius nearly collapsed to the ground. "What do I think." his words trailed off. "I saw you. I saw you there. You've taken that away from him… You've hurt him…"

Cissa's head tilted to one side. For once, her eyes seemed sad. "Do you really think that of me? That I would be capable of destroying my own son?"

"Yes," Lucius answered without a moments pause.

Narcissa stared at him a second and then her lips curled in a vicious smile. "You're one to talk," she spat. "Look at you, all offended. What did you think you were doing all those nights? Did you think I didn't see your own hormones lusting after the boy? I saw you kissing him, wanting him. You're as guilty as I, perhaps even more so."

"I never acted on my urges! Look at what you've done to him! I never would have-"

"But you thought about it," Narcissa said dryly. "You thought about it and that's just as bad as doing. Don't lecture me on morality, Lucius."

"You…" Lucius felt sick. "Don't ever compare me to you." He braced himself with his hand on the wall. He leaned against the structure, fearful of collapsing right there on the floor. Oh, if he did that, he could never hear the end of it, he knew. Narcissa would never let him live that down. He was already weak in her mind. There was no need to add a most pathetic display to her judgments.

Cissa stared at Lucius, her eyes glittering with an unreadable emotion. "You're jealous," she said finally.

"Jealous? Of what?" Lucius's chest suddenly swelled with a wave of heated anger.

Narcissa's eyes swept over Lucius and she grinned. "Draco has gotten what you have never had."

"Your body?" Lucius said lowly. "I've already been there." The words came out before he could stop them. But then, why should he refrain from speaking how he truly felt? She was his wife, after all.

Narcissa frowned, her eyes glaring at him as though trying to burst his heart into pieces. "Get out," she whispered.

"This is my house," Lucius protested. "If anyone is to-"

"Get out!" she screamed. "Leave!" She lunged forward at him and pushed him, her nails like claws, scratching at his skin. "Just go!" She pushed him again, inching him physically down the hallway.

Lucius jerked away at her final attempted at moving him and held his hand to his chest, feeling the sting of her nail marks on his exposed skin around his neck. "I'll never forgive you..."

He turned on his heel and left her there, trembling with anger. Once he made it across the manor and to his sacred library, he collapsed into the armchair, leaning forward to hold his head in his hands. He sobbed into them, the tears coming before he could stop them. What had he done to deserve this? Why?

"Father?" Draco's voice was soft over his shoulder.

Lucius sat up and turned to see his son standing in the doorway. "What do you want?" he asked, unable to hide the resentment in his voice.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, staring at Lucius's tear stained face.

Lucius laughed aloud at the question. "What's _wrong_?" He tilted his head back, unable to stop laughing at the sickness of the situation. "How can you even ask me that after what you've done." He cleared his throat, becoming utterly serious. "You know it's a sin don't you? Sleeping with your own mother."

Draco's brow crinkled as he frowned. "What are you talking about?"


	8. Chapter 8

**_Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. More is on the way._ **

**Chapter Eight- A Father's Fury Pt. 2**

Lucius stared. "What am I talking about?" he echoed, his voice soft and disbelieving. He shook his head back and forth. "No. No, I won't tolerate these games from my own son."

He stood and placed his hands on either of Draco's shoulders, turning him and pushing him gently, but forcibly, out the door.

"Father?" Draco said, his face the mask of confusion. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to look at you. Not after that. Not now. Leave," Lucius mumbled as he closed the library door. Leaning back against it, he slid to the floor. The claw marks Narcissa left upon his neck stung. When he touched his fingers to his wound, they came away wet. "Stupid bitch," he muttered, anger swelling through him as his mind flashed back to that horrid image. "How could she?" he whispered.

"Father?" Draco's voice trembled just outside the door.

"I said leave Draco!" Lucius said loudly. "Please leave me alone." He grimaced at the juvenile request.

"But I don't understand. Could you just explain-"

"What is there to explain? You're soiled, ruined by the hands of your own mother!" Lucius exclaimed.

"Please father, I don't know what you're talking about!" The desperation in Draco's voice floated like currents of water, slipping under the door and washing over Lucius as a tide.

Lucius buried his face in his hands, clenching bits of his hair in his fists. His hands shook as he tried not to pull out his white blond mane. _Trickery. Lies. Does she think she can get away with this?_

"Father..." Draco's voice was low now, barely audible and thick. He was crying.

Sitting motionless, Lucius squeezed his eyes tight. His mind kept flashing back to that horrible vision. The grandfather clock ticked and tocked in the background, crawling over Lucius's skin, digging into his ears so that the steady rhythm spurned return after return of his worst nightmare.

The clocked dinged. It was thirty past the hour. Lucius stood slowly, his muscles tightening and his bones creaking. His body was a bundle of stress and anger. Turning to the door, with his hand wavering over the knob, he had only one thought on his mind. _Death._

The door opened softly- silky hinges to the air. Draco had left the hallway. As Lucius drifted down the corridors, he heard nothing, saw nothing, tasted nothing but bitterness. The vision of his wife and son together seemed burned to the back of his eyelids so that with every blink, every second of darkness, he was reminded of the betrayal.

Finally, he stood outside of the guest room. Without knocking, without breath, he opened it. These hinges seemed to scream as the door swung open. Stepping into the room, Lucius scanned the darkness. The bed sheets were crumpled and tossed, but the bed itself was empty. He walked over to it, his eyes lingering on the stained sheets. His fingers trailed along the edge of one of the burgundy linens. The mattress was cold.

Movement behind him, a play in the shadows and he glanced behind. Narcissa stood in the doorway, robe wrapped around her.

"Lucius..." she said quietly.

"What have you done here?" Lucius asked, his voice tight and tense.

She shook her head. "It's not what you think. I didn't... tarnish our son. You know that. Deep down, you know I wouldn't do that." She walked around to his front, standing just beside the end of the sin scene.

Lucius tilted his head, looking at her, searching her, but not seeing her. The motions of his son riding against her womanhood tugged at his stomach, inflaming his bowels and his temper. His hands shook at his sides. "I don't know _what_ you would do." His voice was low and painful. If pure feeling could draw blood, she would be on her knees in a pool of it right now.

Narcissa swallowed, her eyes flicking from his trembling hands to his reddening face. Even in the dark, she could see his anger. It radiated from him like fire. Tenderly, she reached out a hand to him as if to touch his face.

Before he knew what was happening, Lucius's hands struck out before him, latching onto Narcissa's slender pale neck. His fingers were their own claws, digging deeper into the flesh, seeping into the pounding arteries.

Narcissa's breath rasped out and her hands flew to his around her neck. Her fingernails clawed at him weakly as she bent backwards, her knees giving out. Lucius hovered over her, leaning on her, crushing her into the bed's edge. His arms shook and her eyes bulged from their sockets, threatening to leave her skull and flee.

Soon, Narcissa's hands dropped limply from their failed attempt at defense. Her raspy breath let out a whisper and the hot, lush pounding of her blood seized their battering against his fingers.

He let her head drop with a soft thud.

Turning, he left the guestroom as quietly as he entered it, the only noise giving him away being the creak of the ancient floorboards, the scream of the hinges, and the click of the door back into place.


End file.
